A Super Integra Indeed
by martian-general-bookworm
Summary: Supergirl has died and gone to heaven during the Crisis, however once again by her choice she will be given a chance to protect the innocent again. But where she's going there's no heroes in spandex. What's the newborn Integra Hellsing gotten herself into? One thing is for sure, this world will never be the same, but then again neither will Supergirl.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own any characters of the DC universe. All characters belong to their respective creators.**

Hell. That was truly the only way to describe the pain Supergirl felt. Everything was aching; everything was broken. She couldn't move much either, but then again she had no doubt in her mind that would only cause more pain, although she was having trouble imagining anything worse than this.

She _could_ however, move her eyes and gaze around her. In all honesty there wasn't much to look at. Well there was, but nothing she cared to see. After all who would want to stare at the ravaged battlefield between worlds and the suffering of friends. In fact no sight at all was better than this. She might as well just close her eyes and…

"KARA!" she could hear Clark shriek her name. That wasn't normal for him; the great Superman never shrieked. This wouldn't do, Superman was supposed to be strong like he showed her how to be. She even told him so, after all what villain would fear a shrieking Superman?

Still he continued to try to keep her talking; to try to keep her conscious. They both knew what would happen if she fell asleep.

Still, he tried, "C'mon, Kara… Don't give up. You'll make it."

"I…I can't," didn't he realize how hard it was to talk right now? How could she stay anywhere if she couldn't even form speech?

"Pl.. please… please stay with us." He continued to beg as if she had some form of control over her body's failing systems. Like she could stop her internal and external bleeding, like she could mend those pesky mangled limbs. However she simply continued as if he hadn't just asked for the impossible. She had to at least get this much out.

"B…but it's okay… I knew what I was doing…" she couldn't stop now. After all, how much time did she have left? Minutes? Seconds? "I wanted… wanted _you_ to be safe…" god why was this so difficult. She was **Supergirl** for crying out loud! She could swat away boulders like flies but now just speaking audible sentences made her body tremble with the sheer _effort _(and agony) to expel a few syllables. "You mean so much to me… so much to the _world._"

"Y-you succeeded in destroying the machines." He congratulated Kara. Relief washed over her instantly. Yes, she was broken beyond repair, but at least she had saved some of her precious people, her precious cousin from her horrid fate.

"Thank heaven." Kara forced out a shaky smile. There wasn't much time left she could feel it. "…The worlds… have a chance to live." She croaked out. Superman had apparently noticed the weaker quality in her voice because the tears he once held at bay were now flowing freely down his cheeks. There really was no use trying to hide something like that from someone gifted with super-hearing anyway, so she hadn't bothered trying, but the tears running down his face still troubled her.

"Y-you're crying… please don't." her voice was getting weaker still, along with everything else about her. "You taught me to be brave …and I was… I-I love you so much for what you are… for how good you are." It was then that her nearly gone voice had finally gave out and the rest of her body followed. She fell limp into Superman's arms and just like that, Kara Zor-el was no more.

* * *

The fist thing Kara noticed was the distinct lack of pain anywhere on her person. The bruises, sprains, gashes, and broken bones no longer registered anymore. Even more amazing, they were gone altogether, or at least it felt like it. The former Supergirl reveled in the relief she now experienced. She hadn't felt this way since the beginning of that mess back home.

Later it would be called the crisis, but she would always fondly remember it as hell.

So with the wounds gone Kara could relax freely on… wait, where was she!?

This was definitely not hell. Hell had a crying Kal and all sorts of uncomfortable debris digging into her once beaten flesh. To the absolute contrary this place felt _soft_. Was that grass caressing her back? Since when had there been grass?

She tried to survey her surroundings until she realized her eyes were closed and shortly after realized that she was very reluctant to open them. It was so peaceful after all. For once curiosity was being beat back by the overwhelming comfort of _wherever_ she was and even more strangely was the fact that she was okay with it. She couldn't hear much of anything around her for the first time in a long time. It was as if her super hearing had shut off, but she could still hear the mellow sound of the breeze rustling the grass that continued to sway against her soft body. It was almost like she was an average human if she didn't know any better.

In fact it was almost like she had died and gone to-

Oh…right.

The realization felt crushing, but not as horrible as she would like it to have been. She would never see her cousin again, never see her friends again, never team up with the JLA again and never be Supergirl again. It was over.

But she had no regrets, none at all.

She had saved her cousin one last time, not to mention everyone else from every world. No, that was not a bad way to go at all. A smile tugged at Kara's face, and at last she felt true peace wash over her.

And so Supergirl rested; there was no spring into action, Kara simply spread her limbs out around her, released what little muscle tension she had left and absorbed what she felt could be the yellow sun's rays.

* * *

Ok so first fanfic. Whatcha think? Constructive criticism is always welcome but flames will be used for marshmellows. Right now I am currently looking for a beta so anyone who is interested c'mon and PM me!


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own any of this. Supergirl belongs to DC, Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano and God belongs to himself.

* * *

Kara didn't know how long she simply laid there, but then again, she supposed it didn't really matter. After all what was the rush? No one needed her, and she hadn't felt the need for anything. And by that she did mean _anything._

She felt no hunger, the need to relieve herself was nonexistent, and she felt no cramps or discomfort from staying in the same position for what felt like hours on end. As a matter of fact she felt she could continue to stay like this for years had she truly desired to do so.

It was that train of thought that made her realize that even though she really had nothing else to do, staying around here and sleeping for the next couple years was not something she herself was comfortable doing. Staying idle had never been attractive to her in life and death would not change her opinion on the matter. No matter how comfortable the grass seemed to be.

With new purpose (or perhaps the need to find _any_ purpose), Kara Zor-el Finally opened her eyes.

Wherever she was, it was _breathtaking_.

She was in what she could only guess to be a garden, but it was like no garden she had ever seen. For one it was bigger than any garden she had ever seen. It seemed to go on forever and then some, stretching to the horizon and beyond in every direction she turned. Trees bearing every type of fruit she had ever eaten and some she was pretty sure were exclusive to wherever she was now, were planted in what could only be described as an organized random pattern in every direction. Of coarse fruit didn't simply grow on trees alone, she see vines and bushes filled with them too, along with vegetables and flowers that all seemed to follow or complement that same random pattern. The oxymoron would have boggled her mind anywhere else but here it only seemed natural.

The aforementioned flowers were truly a sight to behold as well. What really stood out was the sheer variety. Not only were there different shapes and colors, but there also seemed to be no particular limit to what climate type the flower had belonged to. Flowers of the Mediterranean grew and blended with flora she had only ever seen grow in south America. The most mind boggling to her though was what had to be the symbolic sunflowers (the state flower of Kansas) sharing the same soil bed, with a type of flower she knew for a fact was kryptonian. Apparently this place had no discrimination against the flowers of other worlds either because Supergirl had spotted several other species that had no place on any earth climate. No, here all the flora planted their roots on the same soil and swayed with the same breeze under the clear blue sky.

Yes, her first statement was a correct description. Had she still needed to breath then this place would have stolen her breath away. She had never really read the bible in depth while she was alive, but she had no problem imagining this place to be the fabled Eden that Christians often mentioned in their myth of creation.

"You're not to far off in that assumption child," A familiar female voice broke the peaceful silence. Supergirl nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden start and slapped a hand over her heart to keep it from jumping out of its ribcage only to realize again that she was dead and a racing heart would no longer trouble her.

In life she had come across many mind - readers, so she did not feel as alarmed as she could have been when it seemed that someone else besides her now had access to her hidden thoughts. Usually it only took a warning or two to set them straight on what was and what wasn't acceptable in what most supers liked to call mind-walking courtesy, however there were, of course some who knew what they were doing was wrong and had no intention of stopping. Kara really hoped it was the former of the two options. Trying to set one straight in the case of the latter usually lead to one big headache for her, especially when some turned out to be rather mind-crippling telepaths.

Whether the mind reader had heard that last train of thought or perhaps simply ignored was unclear to Kara since the voice simply went on as if she had thought nothing at all.

"This place follows the same basic structure of my most famous garden, however as you have probably guessed, the vegetation of krypton was noticeably absent from my first design. Their inclusion was exclusively for your comfort Ms. Zor-el," now Kara realized where she had heard the voice before. After all it came from her own vocal chords every day. Supergirl's head whipped reflexively to the right, to where she had determined the voice to have originated from.

What she saw boggled her mind for what seemed to be the millionth time in the last half hour.

There, sitting Indian style, leaning against the trunk under the shade of a fruit tree that seemed larger than the others, was herself. Supergirl had dealt with a clone or two before, but if this one could read minds then she was going to be at a serious disadvantage here. Batman had once told her that in a situation like this it was best to not think and rely on instinct alone, but Kara had never truly honed hers to the sharp tool that he had and Kara had a feeling this would be easier said than done…

"As good as it is for you to be prepared for such an occasion, you should know that I have no desire to fight," The woman wearing her face assured her. Kara did not let her guard down.

"Then what do you want?" She asked in what could barely be considered a civil tone. There would be no chances taken here.

"To welcome a cherished child into my home, and to honor a the sacrifice of a true hero," the sheer amount of sincerity in the mystery woman's voice was enough to release the tension her body had unintentionally built up for the expected conflict. Any doubt the blonde had about this woman's honesty was immediately erased after seeing the loving smile on her face. After all it was the very same she used when she was sincere. But that still left the question of…

"Who are you then," A name would be a nice start.

The smile remained on the not- Kara's face as she stood. For the first time Kara noticed the not-Kara's dress. There was nothing super elaborate about the style. It was a simple, short-sleeved peasant style dress that brushed just past the knees, which led to bare feet. No, the style was not what grabbed the now deceased blonde's attention; it was the rather unnatural color scheme. After all, not many tailors or textile companies could dye a living color spectrum onto cloth, if it was cloth at all. The rainbow of colors moved and changed slowly in no particular pattern whether the not- Kara was in motion or not. Had the not- Kara spoken again Supergirl might of very well stared at the rainbow dress for the next couple hours (or days; she really had nothing better to do..).

"I am the beginning, the end, the alpha and omega," the woman spread her arms wide, "The universe is my creation. It is my kingdom, and I am its master," The not- Kara's voice no longer just came from the direction of the woman speaking. It now took on an echoing quality that seemed to come from every corner and direction of the endless garden.

It took Supergirl a moment to recover from that particular answer.

"Doesn't that make you...?"

"Yes."

Kara's legs collapsed and she numbly fell to her knees. She could deny it, yes, but the answer given seemed make more sense than anything else. That and somewhere deep inside her very soul, she recognized the being who created her.

In a situation like this one would think that the first thing they would ask would be something like 'what is the meaning of life?' or maybe 'have I lived my life right?' But all Supergirl could think to say was:

"Why do you look like me?"

The not- Kara continued to smile that gentle smile and said, "There is a little bit of God in all of us. I am always with you."

"I always thought you would be a man," Kara blurted thoughtlessly.

"Form means nothing to me," The creator of the universe replied.

"Well I never read that far into the bible but I know that it said you created the first man-,"

"-In my image," The king of kings finished, "Yes I am aware. While most of the lessons taught in that book are my word, it will always be a book that was written by the hands of bias men during the time of Constantine," by now the Everlasting Father was standing just in front of Supergirl.

"Stand Kara Zor-el. You have earned the right to face me eye to eye," The almighty spoke with Kara's voice in a tone of such regality, that Supergirl was almost positive she would never be able to match herself.

Kara did as she was told and stood face to face with the almighty and looked straight into her eyes. This was a mistake on Kara's part since she was not yet ready to handle the onslaught of visions that came from looking into the windows of God's soul.

"Do not look away Supergirl," Supergirl didn't, but she wished she had.

Within God's eyes she saw the end of the Crisis. She witnessed Barry Allen: the _Flash's, _death along with several others. She viewed multiple earths merge into one and as a result learned of the many heroes, including her that were simply forgotten or erased from existence. The horrifying movie seemed to continue on for an eternity for Kara until Jehovah finally closed her eyes. When she opened them again Supergirl saw nothing but an exact copy of her own blue orbs staring back at her. This time when she looked upon the master of the universe's face, it was no longer smiling.

"I wish I could tell you that it was another victory for the 'good guy'," God whispered mournfully, "but had it gone any _other_ way reality could have very well ripped itself apart for those earths."

The almighty planted her hands the shoulders of the now trembling blonde. Kara who was only now coming back to herself realized that she was on the ground again with her hands now wrapped around her arms in a futile gesture to hold herself together. Her knees had once again given out. This time, however the creator of all things kneeled down with her to keep her steady. Despite the overwhelming comfort Supergirl felt from the gestures of her creator, she could no longer stop herself from falling apart.

There and then Supergirl fell into God's loving embrace and cried. She cried for the death of her friends, she cried for the suffering of her family, she cried for her own death and finally she cried for being forgotten. She wailed and pounded on Jehovah's chest without fear of breaking her. After all who could truly injure God?

Throughout Kara's entire 'super' breakdown the King of the Universe simply held the girl close and slowly stroked her back the same way Kara's mother used to before her departure to Earth. The gesture both comforted her and made her cry even harder, but never could anyone call God impatient. She had all the time in the world to let Kara release her pent-up sorrow.

And so both the Girl of Steel and the King of Glory sat in the garden for a time. God whispered assurances that they could stay like this as long as she needed to, while Kara came in and out of uneven, random fits of tears. She took in big heaving breaths only to let them out again in pathetic sobs mixed with tears and mucus. The lapse in dignity never bothered her comforter; it only made her hold on tighter.

Neither counted how long they sat there; after all they had the rest of eternity ahead of them and perhaps even longer. However Kara didn't need that long. Eventually the blonde heroine figuratively ran out of tears and started to pull herself together. She pulled away from the Lord of Lords and weakly smiled at her.

"Are you finished?" there was no bite in her voice, just love.

Supergirl shakily picked herself up, placed her hands on her hips, firmly planted her feet on the ground and straightened her back out in a stance that Clark would have been proud of.

"Yes. Thank you; I'll be alright now," Kara reassured.

"Are you quite sure?"

"I may never truly get over this, but I'll shed no more tears on this matter," Kara took a deep breath, "Kal El, or at least the Kal I knew anyway, he would want me to move on. He wouldn't want me to cry for him, and none of the other friends I lost would want to hold me back from true peace."

"You had wonderful friends then," God smiled, "and more importantly: they had a wonderful friend in you." Supergirl blushed under the praise.

"Which, brings us to a problem of mine…" The Creator of all things trailed off, her peaceful expression morphed into a pensive one. Kara's eyes widened at the sudden mood shift.

"What do you mean?" the former heroine couldn't help but feel a shiver run up her spine at the thought of whatever could trouble the Master of all Things.

"Well," the Blessed Hope pursed her lips, "as you have recently experienced, there is more than just one Earth and there is a complex multiverse that makes up all of creation," she gave Kara a compassionate glance, "you sacrificed you life to protect these worlds.

"However those several earths you fought for were not the only ones in existence, in fact there are some worlds that would not have been affected in the slightest, had the anti-monitor succeeded in its plan," Kara's jaw dropped, but God continued on, despite the massive revelation she just caused.

"In some of these alternate earths the concept of 'superheroes' are found only in the works of fiction and the realm of the truly imaginative. In some worlds still the word superhero has never caught on," this little fact caused the blonde kryptonian's eyes to nearly pop out of her head. This time the Former of all Things allowed her young confidant to take in the knowledge she had just gifted her with.

Kara took a small step back in order to steady herself and to prevent from falling down again.

"Who protects the innocent then? You know, from the threats that law enforcement can't handle alone?" God simply smiled again, but it did not have the same intensity as her earlier grins.

"Without superheroes to push crime forward, there are no super villains. There was no need for criminals to push themselves that far," the Glory of Israel shrugged, "this, however does not mean that these worlds are all without their threats. Just because these do not fall under the clear cut category of super villain does not mean that there are no beings of above average power and skills," God warned with a stern wave of her index finger.

"Then who takes care of those clowns if they're above law enforcement's reach?" was Kara's passionate, if not somewhat predictable reply. She couldn't help it. According to her _loving creator_ there were a whole slew of worlds that had no one above mere police to protect them. She really meant no disrespect to law enforcement, but she had grown up in a world where police were almost hopelessly dependent on her kind. The thought of police actually standing up against the above average thug was almost alien to her. There were always the exceptions, like the police commissioner of Gotham that Batman gave nearly glowing praise to, which in itself was extraordinary. Unfortunately there were not nearly enough men in uniform like him in her world as for as she knew.

The King of Saints must have read her thoughts again when she asked, "will it ease your mind if I tell you that the police in most worlds are usually much more capable and resourceful than the ones you have encountered on your home earth?"

Kara snorted and replied rather sharply, "What makes them so good compared to ours?" before widening her eyes, "I mean-,"

The Light of Nations chuckled softly. The sound practically danced around the clearing and if possible made the garden bloom _more_ than its already bountiful state. Birds –doves- that she had not noticed before sang in reply to their beloved maker's mirth.

"There is no need to apologize Kara Zor El. Your skepticism is justified," God assured. She placed a hand on Supergirl's cheek. The appendage then brushed other blonde girl's hair back, which had come to obscure her face. When Her Majesty on High pulled her hand back she began to speak again, "However you should remember that these worlds for the most part do not have the same conditions yours had. While the law enforcement where you came from had the luxury of cheering on heroes and heroines like yourself as they stood on the sidelines, the men and women in uniform on other worlds were adapting and compensating for their lack of 'super' allies. Please be assured that the above average threats on these other worlds are hardly getting the free rein you seem to imagine that they are receiving."

The super blonde released a relieved breath she had no idea she was holding. She would trust God on this, even if it was nearly impossible for her to imagine such a world that her look- alike had just described.

"Well if you say they don't need us then I'll believe you," The Redeeming Angel beamed at the former heroine's admission and if it was possible, the garden they stood in almost glowed with its master's happiness. Kara herself couldn't hold her own smile back.

Unfortunately, the smile on the Lord's face didn't last and eventually melted into a mournful frown. The atmosphere of the garden responded in kind to its creator's mood shift. The once clear and sunny blue sky clouded over slightly. The sun still peaked through leaving random skylights that highlighted both the Spirit of Grace and the deceased blonde, but the almighty's joy and love no longer seemed to resonate throughout the small lush world. The flowers didn't shrivel, but they did seem to almost fold in on themselves and the various fruit and vegetation no longer bore its fruit. The comforting breeze that had seem to comfort Kara on a subconscious level seemed to still, taking its reassurances with it.

"Perhaps, but there is one world I know that could probably use someone like you."

"Hey wait! You just said-," The Eternal God held up her hand and Kara found she could no longer speak.

"This world would still survive if I left it be, however I _cannot_ in good conscience rest knowing that I could prevent the massive body count that is to come when I had a prime chance to stop it," a wave of nostalgia washed over Kara. After all, how many friends and other fellow heroes had she heard say the same thing or at least something close to it? For the first time since the deceased heroine arrived, she felt could now feel an idea of what God was truly going through, whatever the problem may be. For the first time since she had arrived in the afterlife, the Supergirl understood what God was trying to tell her.

"There's something I can do isn't there?" it wasn't a question.

"I won't force you into anything," the Righteous One replied. "The right to choose will always be a gift to my creations. You can stay here you know. You may find eternal peace and bliss with your fellow friends and fallen comrades." The God of Jacob waved her hand to the side where a beam of sunlight shone through from the cloudy sky above. The sunlight however did not make a spotlight like the others. Instead the light weaved into many colors until it settled into an image of another part of the otherworldly garden that Kara had not seen. There she saw Aquagirl (1), Barry Allen (2), Kole (3), Kid Psycho (4) and several other superheroes that she had learned died in the crisis, either by witnessing it herself or from the visions God had given her earlier. She saw the joy in their faces and the freedom of their burdens in life no longer reflected in their, now care free, demeanors. "You may wait until your cherished cousin passes through the heavenly gates for your long-awaited reunion." The image now rearranged itself until she could see the familiar form of her famous cousin. All breath sharply left her like she had received a punch to the gut. Despite her earlier words she could feel traitorous tears prick at her eyes again. "You don't have to involve yourself with a world that is not your responsibility. You have no obligation to this particular universe."

Kara reached out for the image of her closest relative. She was hardly surprised when her hand passed through the illusion, but was shocked when her cousin seemed to stop flying and survey his surroundings. Superman was about to resume what she assumed would be his patrol over metropolis when she almost unconsciously whispered:

"Kal…" He froze in mid-air and a shiver visibly traveled up his spine. This time when he surveyed his surroundings again he looked her way.

Time seemed to stop for both heroes of steel when Clark caught her eye. Kara didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't do anything; she feared losing the fragile connection too much to do anything else.

"Kara…" the name tumbled from the hero's lips before he could recognize what he was saying.

Then just as soon as he said the word it was almost like a spark died in his eyes and he resumed his patrol.

"Wait!" the distraught blonde fell to her hands and knees, "KAL!" Her head swiveled to the King of Heaven, "You said he forgot me. Why did he know my name, why could he see me!?"

"Have you never heard of being haunted?" God asked, "As for why he knew your name, he may have a new life in this new universe, but a piece of the old Kal El will always remain within his soul. Only when he meets his end will he truly remember every part of his rather convoluted life." There was no smile on the Holy One's face, but an unreadable mask.

"Why did you want me to see that?" Kara asked

"To let you know that although Superman may not remember you now, he has not forgotten you and there is still a chance at a true reunion in the afterlife Kara. I want you to weigh all of your options before making the decision to include yourself in this universe's affairs or not."

Supergirl had no idea whether to thank the other woman or not. Clearly her opinion was important in this matter which she could appreciate, but Kara knew in her soul that she could not turn her back on anyone who needed her help. If there was truly a way she could help those living on this alternate earth, then dammit she was going to help! And nothing was going to stop her, even her own family and friends.

"Thank you for the thought your Holyness," said Kara, "but I can't, in good conscience ignore those in need."

God lifted her head and grinned at Supergirl, "Once again you have proved to me just how right I was to choose you for this."

"What do you mean?" asked a rather perplexed Supergirl who cocked her head to the side.

"The person I choose for this will have to be strong of will and be willing to put the needs of other before the desires of themselves no matter how much they deserve it. This world is harsh and those who cannot adapt have been crushed before," The stony eyes of her almighty creator bored into the super blonde and she gulped, "this will be as much a trial for you as much as help for this planet."

Supergirl replied with a fist to the palm and said, "Bring it on then."

* * *

Well here yah go! Writing god is HARD, but it sure was fun using all those names and guess what? Those were only the ones the Jewish/Christian God! Anyone who has a problem with me only acknowledging the jewish/christian god should be reminded that this is a HELLSING fic. The christian god if paladin anderson is anything to go by seen as a VERY real god in their respective universe. I was originally going to write more but here just seemed like a natural place to stop and so I listened.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Hellsing or super girl sorry

* * *

England, 1977

Arthur Hellsing loved his wife, he really did. Rose –Rosy- Danvers Hellsing was the love of his rather extraordinary life and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He had met the woman while she was vacationing in London to take a break from her rather impressive job in the American CIA. He wished it could have been under nicer circumstances though, but watching the slender woman use a lawnmower to tear apart one of the many ghouls that had invaded the hotel she had been staying at had been one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his admittedly abnormal life.

Rosy was the first woman he didn't have a one-night stand with. She would tease and flirt, but in the end she had rather adamantly saved herself for marriage. What was surprising about it all was the fact that Arthur had actually respected that wish instead of getting bored and moving on like he almost always did. This alone had impressed those who knew of Arthur's rather liberal dating habits and made them even more eager to meet this seemingly too good to be true woman.

It was then that Arthur had witnessed another one of his new wife's many talents. She was a natural born manipulator of others. So much so in fact, that he had once pondered the idea that she had been changed during one of the many missions that she had insisted on accompanying him on. The idea never gained any momentum though when he remembered just how terrible a shot she truly was. No self-respecting vampire had vision that terrible. No, she was no nightwalker, but he imagined that some would be jealous of the natural grace she seemed to carry. The other wives of the round table conference certainly were.

The knights themselves however were a different story. They all loved her seemingly quiet voice and demure presence so much that they were blind to the fact that she had slowly but surely wrapped each and every one of them around her little finger. The blond would often watch in stunned silence as his brunette wife would request and receive favors for the Hellsing foundation that he would almost always be denied himself. In short Rosy had turned into quite the secret weapon; one that he treasured.

She was his equal in every way. Her tactical skills were top notch; her courage to face the supernatural was a match for any natural born Hellsing and what she referred to, as her "good old American ingenuity" seemed to know no bounds. Unfortunately she was his equal in the kitchen and domestic areas as well…

It was a damn good thing they could afford help or they would have both been hopelessly stumped by housework. Walter had expressly forbidden either of them from going anywhere near the fine English bone china or anything else more fragile than a wine glass. It was almost embarrassing really.

Almost as embarrassing to Arthur as when had he realized he was already fifty-four and completely forgot about providing an heir to the Hellsing family name. If he had been anyone else he would have just left it up to his brother to continue the legacy, but he had doubts about his younger sibling. The name Hellsing was more than just a title; it was a huge responsibility along with an almost unmentionable burden. Said burden was sealed in the basement at the moment, but Arthur highly doubted it would remain that way forever. His brother may have known about the Hellsing Organization's true purpose, but for the last two generations the directors had seen it fit to keep it's undead charge a rather well kept secret. No matter how much Arthur loved his brother, there was no getting around the fact that Richard would crumble under the sheer temptation and power that Alucard presented.

That brought him to a rather pressing issue. He needed an heir and he needed one fast. He and Rosy were not getting any younger; he was already fifty-four and she forty-one. Getting pregnant at her age was dangerous according to some medical experts at the time, but after explaining the rather dire situation to his beloved she had agreed that it was worth the risk. Besides, she had joked at the time, how hard could giving birth be compared to hunting vampires?

She wasn't joking now.

Which brought Arthur to his current predicament. He loved his wife, he truly did, but was it too much too ask if she would stop crushing his hand. He had already heard a few things snap and was pretty sure that it would only get worse from here.

Apparently Rosy had seen him wince because she turned to him with a rather deadly glare and ever so elegantly shrieked:

"You think you've got it bad, HUH? How about you squeeze this thing out of your vagina!"

"I don't have one of those sorry," he wasn't sorry at all.

"It was a RHETORICAL question you idiot!" Did he mention how much he loved this woman? He had to keep reminding himself, lest he flee from the room like his every instinct was ordering him to do.

"Push Ms. Hellsing! You're doing great," that had to be the hundredth time that twit of a doctor had said that. They had been at this for at least fifteen hours now and Rosy was still pushing.

She looked like she had been in labor for more though, if you asked him. Rosy's usually practical and neat bun was now totally undone, leaving her waist-length hair to frame her pillow. Her eyes held dark circles underneath and her skin was as pale as death. He would know. Her once steely and calculating blue eyes were now getting somewhat dull and unfocused, but the ever-present determined glint would not leave. She would get this child out if it were the last thing she did. Her determination paid off.

"I think I see the head!" one of the doctors cried out. Arthur would never know how the bloody medical staff stayed so unaffected by the amount of time spent in labor.

"AAAGH!" tears were rolling down Rosy's face freely as the brunette pushed like her life depended on; her husband's right hand certainly did.

"Come on Rose, she's almost here," Arthur tried to soothe. It seemed to work a little because the woman in labor turned and gave him a tired smile.

"I want a –AH- cigarette once this is all over and done with," She half-joked before letting out a pained shriek. Arthur gave a smile back.

"Anything you want." He could go for a cigar himself.

"Here she comes!" cried the doctor. Rosy gave a mighty push and the baby finally seemed to come through. The doctor pulled the child out and the nurse cut the umbilical cord. The child was turned upside-down and spanked. The baby started crying and the Doctor gave a sigh of relief. It was over.

"Congratulations Sir and Mrs. Hellsing you've got your very own healthy baby girl," Arthur couldn't keep the grin off his face if he tried and Rose looked rather proud herself. The blond knight looked into his wife's eyes and they shared a peck on the lips, which led to a full-blown French kiss. It almost made him forget about his hand. Halfway through however, Arthur noticed his partner was not responding with nearly as much gusto as she usually did.

It was then that he heard a rather concerning beeping noise. He pulled back from his wife to see that she was dazed in a way that had nothing to do with his kisses and to see the doctors were moving about in a rather panicked fashion.

"What's going on?" he asked. He was rather panicked himself. It was then that he noticed blood, lots of blood. He looked back to see his wife who was even more pale than before.

"What's going on!?" he asked louder this time. The doctor looked up briefly at the knight almost like he forgot the man was there. He inhaled loudly and blurted:

"She's hemorrhaging. Badly," The blond man looked like he just had the wind knocked out of him. He turned back to his wife so quickly he was surprised he didn't receive whiplash and met tired blue eyes.

"Arthur…" she forced out, "God I'm so tired-,"

"Don't you dare close your eyes!" The knight bellowed. Rosy forced out a weak grin.

"Fine. Have it your way," it seemed like she was trying to laugh, but it only came out like a sigh instead, "Go get me that cigarette would you dear? Childbirth is exhausting," The doctor and company seemed to have tried everything, but the wound just kept bleeding.

"What brand?" maybe if he could keep her talking…

"Pall Mall," she glared at him shakily, "honestly Arthur, you forget… everything," the scowl melted back into a fragile smile, "You… better not… forget me."

"Never," he strained a smile of his own through his tears.

Rosy gazed longingly at the baby crying in the radiant warmer at the other side of the room, "Integra Fairbrook… Wingates Hellsing…" she sighed out longingly, "I'm so sorry I didn't get to see…" Rosy Danvers Hellsing closed her eyes and Arthur wept.

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God this chapter was hard to write. I'm not exactly proud of it ,but hey I got it out of the way reviews are much loved it doesn't have to be long, but just tell me how yah felt and any suggestions on what you want to see in the story!


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Hellsing or any of the characters in that universe. That honor belong to Kouta Hirano**

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Somehow Arthur had managed to keep the funeral a private occasion, despite both he and his late wife's status in British society. Part of the reason was due to the fact that they were a covert section of the convention of twelve and they had often evaded the limelight whenever possible. Hellsing did not flaunt its deeds or purpose and those who worked for it often lied saying they worked for something or somewhere else. It was almost like it didn't exist at all. The only real proof was Sir Hellsing himself.

So instead of having several hundred associates trying to get into Arthur's good graces, the now single director had a decent and manageable amount of real friends who were more interested in Arthur's wellbeing than the wellbeing of the important branch of private military that he led. After all, who would want influence over something when they didn't even know what it did?

The only real work related associates who came to the funeral were the round table knights and they came because they had actually liked Rosy, or at least the façade she put on for them. Arthur liked to believe that his wife was looking down and snickering at how well she had them played. Regardless of how well they thought they knew her though, it was at least somewhat nice to know that they cared. In a rare show of respect, the other knights had even refrained from bothering him about his budget and expenses. It both caused relief and then panic when he remembered that he couldn't rely on the now departed woman to help him secure those resources anymore.

The service itself was small, which was just what Rosy would have wanted. It was held in a small (protestant of course) church on the outskirts of London. His wife had always preferred the privacy and warm congregation there to the large one that Arthur had grown up going to. The building had enough room to fit the grieving party but not too much more. Friends had given eulogies, as Rosy's family had not come.

They had always been unsupportive and scornful of the woman's rather ambitious choice to follow into what they considered to be a man's job. When she had told them that she was moving to England for a new job at the Hellsing foundation they cared little since it only made her seem like a bigger disappointment to them. Frankly Rosy had figured that if they were this unsupportive of every other aspect of her life then she wouldn't bother to tell them that she had finally found a man like they had wanted her to so desperately. This had made his invitation to her funeral a bit more satisfying to him as he had great pleasure in telling her family that their "failure" had married a knight. Their reaction was priceless and almost made him forget about why he had contacted the bastards in the first place.

So all in all it was rather nice and sincere event. The "after party" to the funeral was held in the ballroom of the Hellsing mansion. Friends swapped fond stories of the departed woman and everyone had at least one Pall Mall cigarette in honor of the deceased brunette, even those that preferred cigars. It seemed like every few minutes someone found a new reason to toast to the life of Rosy Hellsing, which Arthur had surmised to be an excuse to simply get drunk. He didn't say anything of course, since he wasn't exactly going light on the alcohol himself. The old girl herself used to enjoy a good drink as much as anybody in the room anyway.

The gathering did not last long though since most of the guests had rather demanding government jobs; England would not stop for the death of one woman. No matter how extraordinary. Most of said guests did not have to worry about driving while intoxicated since they had their own drivers to escort them off the estate. Those that didn't had been driven home by one of Hellsing's personnel. It was a secret organization after all; it did not need to have attention called to it by some drunk driving accident.

The house was now back to its usual emptiness with the exception of Walter and staff cleaning up the small messes the guests had made. The staff didn't bother him and he returned the courtesy. All household help would report to Walter if there were a problem that they believed Arthur would need to know about. As of right now there was no such issue so the blond director was left alone in his office with only paperwork and cigar smoke for company.

Normally this would be the ideal work environment. There was nothing to distract him and he could focus without fear of interruption. Tonight however, it just gave his mind the opportunity to wander towards depressing thoughts. He could not focus and the paperwork was not nearly the kind of distraction he needed. Still, he tried for at least an hour or so more to get something done, but it wasn't long until he realized the pointlessness of trying to do anything in this condition so he retired for the night.

The sun had long since gone down and the moon was near the center of the sky. Despite this Arthur could not sleep. He wore his most comfortable, silk, nightshirt and pants. He lay on his eight- hundred thread-count sheets that rested on top of a rather expensive mattress. However, none of it helped him get to sleep.

All he could do was remember when Rosy had given him said nightclothes for Christmas last year, when he and his wife were lectured by Walter for not understanding how thread-count worked, and when his love had convinced him to jump on the bed with her after they first got it. He treasured both those innocent memories and the not so innocent ones that were connected to the piece of furniture. That didn't mean they didn't haunt him though.

Maybe if he replaced the bed and-

No, He had promised his wife that he would not forget her and he would stick by his word. Getting rid of the bed might seem to lessen the pain now, but if he got rid of one item that reminded him of her then what would stop him from doing the same to everything that did so? It could start with the bed then move onto the couch that they had often, _ahem_, enjoyed each other's company on. He could imagine all the pictures and mementos going into storage where they would never be seen again, along with everything else that proved she had ever existed or made a mark on his life.

No one would stop him. Walter might not approve, but he was a professional if nothing else and he would not object to anything his master asked for if it truly came down to it. The only one to stop Arthur would be himself.

No, the blond decided. He would not ignore his Rosie's memory like a coward. It might hurt now to remember the vivacious woman, but they say time heals everything right?

Besides, he thought to himself, he had no right to deny little Integra knowledge about the woman who gave her life.

Realizing that sleep would not come to him anytime soon, Arthur lifted himself out of bed and swung his feet onto the cold hardwood floor. He walked over to the sitting area located by the window in the corner of the rather large bedroom and pulled his brown robe off of one of the dark leather upholstered chairs. Without further ado he left the room and into the network of hallways that the mansion seemed to have in abundance.

He didn't travel very far. In fact he really only went to a closed door across the hall. He gingerly opened the door as to avoid making any noise and cautiously stepped through. On the other side of the door was the nursery.

The walls were painted a light blue and a lush green carpet was added to make the floor softer for the unavoidable tumbles the child would eventually go through when she started to master her motor skills. The furniture itself was made up of a light ash wood that lent itself to the overall light feeling that the room gave off. He could fondly remember Rosy saying 'just because we hunt vampires doesn't mean our child has to grow up in a military barrack dear' and she had made sure that there would be little to no evidence of their grim job occupation here.

There was nothing scary about the translucent white curtains. Nothing was grim about the toy box and the colorful objects inside. The only thing remotely related to what he did for a living was a cartoon mural of king Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. These knights however, wore chain mail and plate rather than the tailored suits that the modern knights today were much more frequently found in. The artist they commissioned had no idea that the round table still ran today and besides, a modern day round table meeting was really no where near as epic as the tales of old anyway. Integra would definitely prefer growing up with these knights over the stuffy blue bloods he dealt with on a day-to-day basis.

Speaking of Integra…

The father was now staring into the crib, which held his newly acquired treasure. The little girl that his beloved wife had gave her life to bring into this world, the bundle of joy that was now his last true connection to his wife. She may never remember the woman that brought her life, but Arthur had seen Integra's eyes and he knew that they could be from no one else but Rosy. Abraham was said to have blue eyes as well, but Arthur knew those were not Van Helsing's eyes that gazed up at him. He could recognize that stare anywhere and that alone assured him that he wouldn't forget Rosy as long as Integra lived. It depressed him for a moment, but that didn't last too long when he recalled the Round table's reaction to those same eyes on numerous occasions. Arthur could not help but smirk a little.

Integra also seemed to have inherited her mother's tanned skin. It wasn't too dark, but damn it all if he could remember where Rosy had said she got it from. He remembered her saying something about some silly Native American tribe with some equally ridiculous name. Either way his little girl would certainly stand out in the rather pale crowds of London town. The platinum hair that she had inherited from him seemed to exaggerate the feature even more. There wasn't much of the stuff now, but when it came in he could imagine the striking contrast she would present. Frankly he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to see what was to become of the product that he and his beloved had brought into this world. His inner knight could not wait to behold who would succeed him, as director of Hellsing, couldn't wait to see his heir become a sharpened weapon of God and her Majesty. He was practically giddy with excitement over the fact that he could finally retire in the foreseeable future!

The newly budding inner father however was not as impatient to see her grow up so fast. Arthur would cherish hearing his little girl learn how to form words and talk. He would treasure teaching her to walk and run. He would enjoy every moment of instructing his Integra how to ride a bicycle. Arthur would look on in pride as he watched Integra leave for her first day of school. He wasn't exactly looking forward to her teenage years, as that was when he remembered most of the girls during his childhood tended to more than a little irrationally, but he'd manage. Or get someone who could. He'd have to give her the _talk_ too, wouldn't he…?

Well raising a child couldn't be all fun and games he guessed.

Arthur looked down into the crib and saw that Integra had woken up. She was gurgling, but not crying so that was a good sign. He reached his hand down and placed his fingers in front of the little Integra to play with.

The little baby reached up and squeezed one of the fingers. He felt an explosion of pain radiate from the digit and barely refrained from howling.

Okay, so letting Integra play with the fingers Rosy had broken a couple days ago might not have been his best idea…

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Well that was a sad chapter. Again. Thank god this little arc is over. This will be the last of Rosie's death arc. Next chapter we go further into Integra's childhood.

She doesn't seem to show any signs of Supergirl yet but that will come later don't you worry!

**Leave a review! they fuel every authors passion for writing!**


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